d toward him. He stared up into
his eyes through the fog. The tears had smeared his cheekbones.

"God!" he said. "Will I come? Look and see if I'll come." Dart looked.

"Yes, you'll come," he answered, and he gave him the money. "I 'm
going back to the coffee-stand."

The thief stood staring after him as he went out of the court. Dart was
speaking to himself.

"I don't know why I did it," he said. "But the thing had to be done."

In the street he turned into he came upon the robbed girl, running,
panting, and crying. She uttered a shout and flung herself upon him,
clutching his coat.

"Gawd!" she sobbed hysterically, "I thort I'd lost yer! I thort I'd
lost all of it, I did! Strewth! I 'm glad I've found yer--" and she
stopped, choking with her sobs and sniffs, rubbing her face in her sack.

"Here is your sovereign," Dart said, handing it to her.

She dropped the corner of the sack and looked up with a queer laugh.

"Did yer find a copper? Did yer give him in charge?"

"No," answered Dart. "He was worse off than you. He was starving. I
took this from him; but I gave him some money and told him to meet us at
Apple Blossom Court."

She stopped short and drew back a pace to stare up at him.

"Well," she gave forth, "y' ARE a queer one!"

And yet in the amazement on her face he perceived a remote dawning of an
understanding of the meaning of the thing he had done.

He had spoken like a man in a dream. He felt like a man in a dream,
being led in the thick mist from place to place. He was led back to the
coffee-stand, where now Barney, the proprietor, was pouring out coffee
for a hoarse-voiced coster girl with a draggled feather in her hat, who
greeted their arrival hilariously.

"Hello, Glad!" she cried out. "Got yer suvrink back?"

Glad--it seemed to be the creature's wild name--nodded, but held close
to her companion's side, clutching his coat.

"Let's go in there an' change it," she said, nodding toward a small pork
and ham shop near by. "An' then yer can take care of it for me."

"What did she call you?" Antony Dart asked her as they went.

"Glad. Don't know as I ever 'ad a nime o' me own, but a little cove as
went once to the pantermine told me about a young lady as was Fairy
Queen an' 'er name was Gladys Beverly St. John, so I called mesself
that. No one never said it all at onct--they don't never say nothin'
but Glad. I'm glad enough this mornin'," chuckling again, "'avin' the